The Sister of War
by Knightshade93
Summary: Sister Julianne wsa not overly surprised by her support for Ulfric Stormcloak, but as the War takes its toll they will both find solace in each others faith, and learn that opposites do share the strongest bond. Rated M for later Sexual Content.
1. Chapter 1

Sister Aeveynne Julius was _changed_ after the Great War. She was there. She had been there when the Imperial city fell. Of course she was just a young Legionnaire back then. She believed that Talos had abandoned them, so she joined the Imperial Cult, to regain some of her faith. But then the Empire had outlawed the worship of Talos. If not worship, than at least allow reverence, but that wasn't allowed either. So she had taken up a weapon and travelled the lands looking for penance. She refused to follow another's path, saying that the Nine would lead her on the right path. Why? She kept asking. Why did they outlaw the worship of the one man who had changed the world? She knew that Talos had defeated the first Aldmeri dominion. But that was over millennia ago. It was from such elves that St Alessia had risen to found the first Empire. She wasn't fond of pagan gods like Shor, but she knew the importance of such deities to the strong hearted Nord's, the stock from which Talos himself was descended.

Then she heard of Ulfric Stormcloaks rebellion in Skyrim. Then she knew what she had to do. The Nine had shown her the path. She would help usher in a new Empire. Just like Talos had created his Empire from the ashes of the one that came before, so was this Empire coming to an end. It needed strength, and strength was what the Nord's had. If she would die there in that barren land she would not have died in vain. And so she named herself Julianne Stormcloak. For only Ulfric's passion eclipsed hers.


	2. Chapter 2

'I thought Ulfric would've had a better grip on the situation,' Julianne said to her companion.

'From what I hear the whole situation hinges on Whiterun, though the Jarl there is against the support of either side.'

'He is a fool then Caventus.'

'You can discuss that with him yourself then,' the old warrior smiled.

'You know I hate politics.'

'Then you'll hate High Rock.'

'The sooner we talk to Ulfric the better Caventus.'

Caventus stopped, 'Though I've told you a hundred times that Windhelm isn't exactly the friendliest place for Imperials.'

'I'm not an Imperial. Besides I feel words are easier to deal with than a troll.'

'I take back what I said before, I think you'll be brilliant with politics.'

Julianne took a deep breath, 'If that is your attempt at humour I hate to see what you'll be like as a jester.'

Caventus chuckled before an arrow streaked out and embedded itself in his chest.

'Caventus!' Julianne barely turned when a second arrow hit her in the side and knocked her to the ground. Blacking out as her head hit a rock.

Poor Caventus. It was from just that sort of event where she'd met him. He saved her. He told her to stop thanking him. But now she had the Stormcloaks to thank, and maybe even that dragon. Funny that she should find herself thanking the creature that had almost killed her twice. She felt different now that was in Skyrim, her true home. She felt wilder. Gone was the solemn sister, now she relished the thrill of battle, of crushing weak brigands and Imperials alike. Windhelm loomed ahead, and there Julianne saw her future.

'I said this before but are you sure you want be going in there? I'll be happy to take you somewhere else if need be, for no charge.'

'I am flattered by your concern but I'll be fine I've never been so sure in my life.'

The cart driver shrugged and brought the cart to a stop, 'Enjoy Windhelm.'

Julianne nodded her thanks and walked confidently towards the great gates of the city, pulling her cloak around her to stave off the biting cold. She could hardly believe that anybody could tolerate this.

'Talos guide you, death to the old Empire.'

'Talos guide you,' the Guard replied before letting Julianne into the city. Windhelm was such a dreary place, yet capturing the nature of Nords. It was cold, hard and unforgiving but Julianne saw that the city would temper her, prepare her. Hard days were ahead, and where else to prepare than the cruellest city in Tamriel. She pushed back her cowl as she approached the Palace of Kings, a fitting name for the home of the future ruler of the land. The guard gave her a firm look, untrusting but soon Julianne would earn their respect. If not through Ulfric then on the field of battle. A rush of heat escaped from the palace as an ageing Nord walked out. Julianne didn't know what to make of the old man, who was clearly a veteran of the War, like she was. Regardless she entered the palace ignoring the clear looks of hatred she received from the Guards. She had her eyes on a far bigger concern.

'Ulfric!' she called out, almost challenging the person she addressed, 'where does the great hero of Skyrim hide.'

Ulfric stood up from his throne as this stranger approached him, a moment of hesitation before he recognised the woman, 'Sister Julius, come to return me to Imperial fold have you.'

Julianne recognised it as a statement and not a question. Instead she threw back her cloak to reveal not the apparel of a priestess, but a suit of fine steel armour, inlaid with ebony and gold and a mace hanging from her hip.

'Hardly, I am here to serve you Jarl Ulfric. A nice title I may add, but a man of your stature deserves something more. You showed me something, all those years ago and I come here only to find you had practically surrendered to the Imperials, disappointing.'

'I thought I recognised you at Helgen.'

'That doesn't matter, there was a Dragon destroying the town, we hardly had time for formalities. Now as to why I'm here I wish to fight for you, but first we need to talk about that same Dragon.'

'Ok I'm listening.'


End file.
